


Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn't)

by StoriesofmyLife



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony, Protective Tony Stark, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, dad tony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-12-11 04:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesofmyLife/pseuds/StoriesofmyLife
Summary: Or Tony Stark never thought he'd be a good dadUntil Peter Parker came into his life and proved to him that he could be.





	1. Bullies

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time writing for this universe, so please be kind! I've seen Spider-Man: Homecoming three times and I love Tom Holland's take on Peter and Robert Downey Jr, as always, is brilliant as Tony Stark. I love their relationships so much and I've been doing a lot of reading and I've come across several fics like this and I've loved every single one, so I decided to try my hand at one! Hope you guys like it!

Tony swore when he was twelve years old that he would never be a father. He remembered that moment clearly, like it had just happened a day ago, not well over thirty years ago. He was in his room, his father still screaming in a drunken rage at his mother over something Tony did, his anger and disappointment following Tony down the hallway of their New York penthouse apartment. He remembered sitting on the cold tile floor of his room, head rest against the heavy wooden door that was doing nothing to muffle his father’s harsh words.

His father was angry, Tony had gotten kicked out of his third private school on the East Coast, the letter expulsion still clutched in his father’s harsh grasp. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen his father this furious before and Tony knew that the only thing that saved him from taking a glass full of scotch to the face was his mother’s presence in the room. Maria Stark might’ve been docile about a lot of things, but Howard taking his rage out on Tony _physically_ , that would never fly in this house hold.

Tears of anger and embarrassment welled in Tony’s eyes and he wiped them away furiously, refusing to waste anymore energy on that man that he was forced to acknowledge as his father. No matter what Tony did, it was never enough to please Howard Stark. He made his first prototype of an arch reactor at the age of six, Howard wanted it by age five. Tony skipped three grades, Howard wanted him to skip four. Tony, despite his age, was offered a spot at MIT and if Howard had it his way? He would've been there a year ago. No matter how much Tony achieved, how many goals he surpassed, he always came up short in Howard’s eyes. Being the constant source of Howard’s disappointment and ire made Tony wonder if he would ever succeed in his father’s eyes, if his dad would ever clap him on the back and say “I’m proud of you, son.”

He wondered, some nights, when he’d lie awake in his too big bed in his too big room in his too big house, if his father had ever wanted children, had wanted _Tony._

The thought crossed his mid countless of times, until it latched onto his cerebral cortex and sat there, like the worst form of cancer that had no possible cure.

And while Tony sat there, head resting tiredly against the warm wood, Howard’s voice still echoing down the long hallway, that cancer spread until it proved fatal.

He never wanted his children to feel like _this._

_Unwanted_

_Worthless_

_A complete and utter failure._

Tony was self-aware enough to know that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, that human nature was a pattern and patterns were destined to repeat themselves, without fail. Anger and rage and disappointment were the only form of affection Tony was used to getting to his father. His father was a cold man, always keeping Tony at a distance that no matter how hard he tried, Tony could never quite breach.

And Tony knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would always end up like his father.

  
~~~~~~~

 

Peter Parker came into his life unexpectedly and despite popular opinion, unplanned. He’d been keep tabs on the Spider-Kid since the kid popped up on his radar a few months ago, clad in that god awful homemade leotard/hoodie contraption and flying around Queens on his webs with all the grace of a child learning to walk for the first time. Tony never planned to actually meet the kid behind the mask or reaching out to the flying kid in his homemade costume, but when the Avengers disbanded and the only family Tony had ever known was decreasing in numbers, he needed back up.

Looking back, his intentions were purely selfish and it shamed him to admit, when he dropped the kid back off in his sketchy neighborhood in Queens with the new suit he’d made him, he never had any intention of keeping in contact with the kid.  
To absolve himself from the guilt, he appointed Happy as his chaperone and threw himself into creating new legs for Rhodey, another way to attempting to soothe ache of guilt that had settled along with the shrapnel, in his battered heart.

He underestimated Peter, who was pushy and persistent and finally, after three months, Happy threw his phone at Tony and told him to call the kid. That night, Tony, with a glass of scotch in hand, filtered through the hundreds of voicemails Peter had left Happy—anecdotes of his daily patrols, everything from helping old ladies cross the street, stopping bike thieves to getting cats out of trees. Each story was told with excruciating detail, in that excited ramble the kid got whenever he was particularly enthused about something and warmth settled around Tony’s heart, fond amusement making his lips curl into his first genuine smile in months.

It took Tony another week to reach out to the kid, but he did and that’s how he found himself, in one of his more flashier cars, sitting outside of Peter’s school. He ignored the gawking, the stunned stares and the whispers of the students filtering out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd before they landed on a familiar head of messy hair.

Peter was talking excitedly to the chubby, dark haired Asian kid by his side, who was nodding along to everything Peter said with a look of pure wonder on his face and Tony wondered briefly if his little friend knew that his BFF moonlighted as a super-hero in spandex at night.

Another kid appeared by Peter’s side and Tony watched as Peter visibly tensed and tried to skirt around the kid, but the kid threw a hand out and stopped Peter in his tracks.

The cocky grin that appeared on the kid’s face was all too familiar to Tony and before he could even second guess himself, he was out of his car and walking towards the three boys, ignoring the murmurs coming from the crowd.

“—when are you gonna stop lying about your internship with Tony Stark, Penis Parker? There’s no way someone like Tony Stark would ever take on a charity case like you—“

Peter looked up when he heard the murmuring crowd fall to a hush and his gaze landed on Tony. The amount of surprise in the kid’s features made Tony’s gut clench that in no way had to do with the greasy cheeseburger he ate on the way over here.

“M-Mr. Stark, what, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter stammered, flicking his gaze back to would be bully in front of him.

“Yeah, Parker, like I’m gonna fall for _that_ —“

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Tony interrupted, smirking in satisfaction when the kid that was giving Peter a hard time, froze, turning his disbelieving eyes on to Tony.

“Y-You-You’re Tony Stark.” He said faintly, his voice shaking.

Tony smirked, “Astute observation and you are?”

The kid gulped, his adams apple bobbing harshly, “F-Flash Thompson.”

“Makes sense,” Tony said with a nod of his head, looking the kid up and down, “I’d bully someone too, if my parents named me after the lamest superhero to ever grace the pages of a comic book, overcompensation and all that,” Tony said thoughtfully, “especially with your perceived fixation on the male genitalia. Tell me, did it take you a while to come up with something that juvenile or did you have someone equally as childish think it up for you? Because I would think someone with—and I’m assuming here, so correct me if my deductive reasoning skills are off—a high level of intelligence would come up with something a little bit more creative than ‘Penis Parker’.”

By the time Tony was done, the crowd around him was snickering and the kid in front of him looked like he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole, if such things were possible.

Tony smiled, but there was nothing nice about, “Now, if I ever catch wind of you so much as looking in Peter’s direction again and trust me, kid, I’ve got my ways, I have no issue siccing my AI on all your school records and wreaking havoc on your future plans for any Ivy League schools, you reading me kid?”

Flash nodded so vigorously he resembled a bobble head, “Y-Yes, Sir.”

Tony smiled, this one much more kind than the last, “Good, I’m glad we could reach an understanding, now running along so I can talk to my intern here without your sorry excuse for cologne clouding my senses, _seriously_ kid less is more.”

Flash tucked his proverbial tail between his legs and pushed through the crowd of people that were now openly laughing, losing interest in Tony in favor of chasing after Flash to mock him.

Tony shouldn't feel as proud as he did, but he knew what it was like to be bullied and he’d be _damned_ if his kid— _ahem_ , someone like Peter had to deal with someone as childish as Flash Thompson every day and it was within his power to do something about it. Like the kid didn’t already have enough to deal with as it was.

He turned back to see a dumbfounded Peter and his equally as flabbergasted friend.

“That was—” Peter began, but seemed to be at a loss for words, shaking his head in disbelief.

His friend, however, didn’t seem to have that particular problem.

“— _AWESOME!_ ” His friend said excitedly, “oh man did you _see_ Flash’s face? Dude, this is greatest thing to _ever_ happen to me. _Tony Stark_ just verbally assaulted Flash, _Jesus_ dude, how is your life? If you ever want to trade, even if it’s just for a day, I’m totally down—“

 _“Ned.”_ Peter muttered, elbowing him roughly, giving a rough jerk of his head in Tony’s direction. He flicked his apologetic gaze over to Tony, who simply rolled his eyes, but he couldn't deny the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Ned followed his gaze and flushed, “ _Right_ , sorry.”

Peter closed his eyes for a moment and Tony could see the kid physically trying to fight off his embarrassment and couldn't help but chuckle.

Peter’s eyes snapped open at the sound and the surprise and confusion from earlier was back, “Mr. Stark, what are you doing here? At my school? Is everything okay? Is there a—“ Peter glanced around in a sad attempt at nonchalance and lowered his voice to an equally as sad attempt at a whisper, “— _mission_?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that was making Tony wonder if the kid had a weird twitch he’d never noticed before.

Tony glanced over at Ned quickly, going back to his original curiosity of how much the kid actually knew about his arachnid friend here, but Ned seemed to catch on to Tony’s unasked question.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, sir, I’m Peter’s Guy In The Chair.” Ned answered helpfully, giving him a bright smile.

Tony glanced back over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, who simply muttered “ _dude_ ” in an exasperated tone, shaking his head before returning his attention to Tony, “Ned knows.”

“Oh, well, in that case, no, there is no… _mission_ ,” Tony said in a mock whisper, making Peter flush, “I’m working on a new Iron Man suit and I need to pick your brain for some ideas on upgrades, figured I’d swing by and pick you up from school today.”

Peter’s eyes widened and Ned seemed torn between fainting or peeing himself from excitement.

“ _You get to touch the Iron Man suit_?!” He squeaked, turning his wide-eyed gaze over to Peter, who only gave Ned a look, who bit his lip sheepishly, but looked like he was ready to explode from the level of his enthusiasm.

Peter ignored him, “I was supposed to help Ned finish the lego Death Star today, we were supposed to do it yesterday, but I uh, kinda got caught up on patrol.” Peter gave Tony a guilty shrug of his shoulders.

“So let me get this straight,” Tony said slowly, “you’re turning down quality time in my _personal lab_ to build a lego Death Star with Ned over here?”

Peter’s eyes had lit up at the mentions of Tony’s lab, but with quick glance at a wide eyed Ned, who seemed to be stuck on the fact that _Tony Stark_ said his name, his excitement dimmed. But Peter was loyal, almost to a fault, and nodded resolutely.

Tony, seemingly at a loss for words, just stood there, shellshocked at being told no, by a fifteen year old kid at that. A small part of Tony, the one that was actually looking forward to hanging out with the kid, was slightly hurt at the rejection.

Ned, who’d been watching the entire scene with wide eyes, was more observant than he looked and seemed to sense Peter’s indecision and Tony’s disappointment, because he gave his friend a bright smile, “Dude, we can finish the Death Star anytime and besides, my mom wanted me home tonight to help her with something, so I’m booked, raincheck?” He offered.

Peter glanced at Ned then at Tony and then back to Ned, “Um, sure Ned, no problem.”

Ned gave him a smile and then turning his attention back to Tony, his friendly smiled turned a bit more to the manic grin that most people wore in Tony’s presence, “It was really nice to meet you Mr. Stark.”

He offered Peter a fist bump, who returned it, before he started walking down the side walk, towards, what Tony assumed, was home.

Turning his attention back to the kid, he gave him a smile, “Good good, now we should probably be on our way if we want to avoid traffic. Now, as far as suit upgrades go, I was thinking of up-ing the suit’s repulsers a bit—hey, kid, you coming?” Tony asked from his position on the driver’s side, raising an eyebrow at Peter, who was still standing on the side walk. Tony followed his gaze and saw Ned still making his way down the sidewalk and chancing a glance back at Peter, who was still watching him with big, guilty eyes, he sighed.

 _The things I do for you, kid,_ Tony thought to himself.

“Hey, Ned,” Tony shouted, making the kid pause and turn around, looking to Peter, who was watching Tony with the beginnings of a smile, then back to Tony curiously, “would you like to join us? There’s plenty of room in the lab for three people.”

Even from a few yards away, Tony could see the kid’s eyes widen in surprise before he hustled his way back to an equally excited Peter, who shot him a grateful look.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said quietly, giving him a bright smile.

And Tony couldn’t help but smile back, “You’re welcome, kiddo,” eyeing a panting Ned warily, “make sure he doesn't do anything…weird, okay? I don’t mind opening my lab to him but there was something in his eyes when I was talking about the Iron Man suit that made me decidedly uncomfortable.”

Peter gave a breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, Ned’s cool.”

Ned, who had come to a slightly sweaty stop in from them, looked up at Tony with wide eyes, “Can I try on the Iron Man helmet?”

“ _Dude._ ”

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Tony spent the majority of their time in lab just watching Peter and Ned run around like kids in a candy store—picking things up, playing with the robots—DUMM-E taking a special liking to Peter, who, Tony was pleased to see, treated him like a human, thanking him when he brought them water from the stocked fridge and smiling when DUMM-E beeped happily in return—and played with all the gadgets laying around.

Tony, albeit wearily, let them try on one of the Iron Man helmets from one of his earlier models and explained to them how the suit worked, both of them hanging on to his every word. He showed them the blue prints for his newest model, listening to their suggestions and even writing a few them down to look into later.

Ned, Tony found out, was rather intelligent with computers. He gave him one of his old security systems and watched with genuine interest as the kid hacked into the the files with ease and recoded the entire system in a matter of minutes.

When Tony looked it over, he let out a grunt of an approval, “Nice work, kid.”

Ned all but fainted at Tony’s praise.

The hours slipped by and F.R.I.D.A.Y. being the helpful AI that she is, had ordered pizzas without Tony even having to ask and had them sent to the kitchen, alerting them when they had arrived. Tony led them up to the kitchen, watching with thinly veiled amusement as they both took in every new surrounding with the same amount of interest they had shown in the lab.

Tony continued to observe them as they tore into the pizza like they hadn't eaten in days and taking a quick glance at the clock, he realized with a flash of guilt, that they had been down in the lab for over four hours and the last time they had probably eaten something would've been well over seven or eight hours ago.

It was nice, Tony deiced, listening to their mindless chatter and what was especially nice, was seeing how at ease Peter was with his friend, looking like a true fifteen year old with his friend over to his house on a school night, like he didn’t have super powers, like he didn’t dress up in tight spandex and web his way through Queens and fight crime at night while trying to balance a normal life. 

The thought nagged at Tony for the rest of dinner and as he rode silently with them in the backseat while Happy drove them all to Ned’s apartment first, who still looked like he couldn't believe today was real, thanking Tony breathlessly for _the best day of his life_ and telling Peter he’d see him tomorrow at school.

Peter watched him friend with a small, amused smile and when they got to Peter’s apartment building, Tony glanced over at the kid, the smile still had yet to leave his face.

“Alright kid, this is your stop,” Tony said, making a move to undo his seatbelt, but the kid’s hesitant voice made him pause.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly, clearing his throat, “I uh, just wanted to thank you, you know for well, _everything_ ,” the kid breathed, smiling up at him so sincerely that it made Tony’s chest ache in the best sort of way, “today was amazing and I really appreciate you inviting Ned along with us, he really looks up to you, you know? And I haven't really been able to spend much time with him since, y’know, the whole Spider-Man thing.”

The kid paused before continuing on in a softer voice, “And about Flash, I really, _really_ don’t know how to thank you for that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “it’s kind of funny, in a way, I’m a sort of super-hero and I can’t even stand up to a bully—“

Tony’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the kid’s self-deprecation, “Look, kid, I’m no stranger to bullies,” he began, sighing heavily, “I had my fair share of them when I was in school and even in college. I learned that while you may no be able to physically fight someone, you can always fight them with words and sometimes, words can hurt more than your fists. All I did was give that flash kid a taste of his own medicine and hopefully, got him off your case.”

Peter was silent for a moment, considering Tony’s words before giving him another appreciative smile, “I don’t think Flash will be messing with me anytime soon, but still, thank you,” Peter’s smile turned shy, “you’re the first adult, other than May, to stand up for me and I really appreciate it, so thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony,” Tony offered after a beat of silence, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

Whatever he was trying to say, the kid got, because he smiled brightly and Tony, suddenly feeling awkward at the unusual sentimental moment, busied himself with unbuckling his seatbelt, ignoring the warmth in his chest.

He reached around the kid to open the door for him and Peter, rather than getting out, just like last time, he reached up and wrapped his arms around Tony, thinking he was hugging him

“This um, wasn't a hug,” Tony began awkwardly, “I’m just getting the door for you.”

However, before the kid could pull away, Tony wrapped his arms around him and gave him a quick, but firm squeeze.

Peter gave him another smile before wishing Tony and Happy a goodnight, getting out of the car and making his way up towards his apartment. Tony debated on his next move, mulling it over quickly and before the kid could get too far, he found himself making a snap decision and rolling down he window.

“Hey Underoos,” Tony started, slightly unsure of himself when the kid turned around and looked at Tony with hopeful eyes.

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” He said after a moment of silence, the kid’s answering grin melting away any self doubt before it could begin.

“Sure Mr.Stark— _Tony_ ,” Peter stuttered excitedly, “sounds great!”

Tony watched the kid go with a satisfied smiled, so caught up in his happy little pseudo-family moment that he almost didn’t hear his phone ring.

Not even bothering to glance at the caller I.D., he answered it with a smooth, “Stark.”

_“Tony?! What the hell we’re you thinking going to a school and threatening a minor, A MINOR—“_

_Shit._

 

 

 


	2. Homework

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's failing Chemistry and Tony's never built a paper mache volcano before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh you guys, thank you so much for the amount of love this story has received. I'm completely blown away and I'm incredibly thankful! You guys are amazing and your reviews are a huge help and an inspiration to finish this story! This chapter kind of got away from me, but I love writing these two and I'm hoping that I do them justice!

  
Peter tapped his pen against his Chemistry notebook rhythmically, eyeing the clock on the wall with keen interest as the seconds ticked by too slowly for his liking. He was ready to get out of here and back into Mr. Stark’s— _Tony’s_ lab and work on some upgrades for his web-shooters. He had a few ideas he thought up last night and he was excited to run them Mr.— _Tony._

That one was still taking a while to get used to.

Ned was scribbling down notes next to him, something Peter should be doing too, but instead he was sketching out a new formula for his web-fluid and he wondered if Ned would mind being a bro and letting him copy his notes after class.

“—and I know everyone is anxious to get out of here, but if you could spare a few minutes of your time, I want to discuss the end of semester project with you guys—”

Peter fought back a groan.

While admittedly, Chemistry was one of Peter’s favorite subjects and he had no problem knocking out the homework for this class, however, a project was something that was time consuming and time was something Peter was in short supply of these days. Ever since becoming Spider-Man, Peter’s attention to school and his work and his grades had started to waver. Luckily, May just blamed it on teenage rebellion and his commitment to his “internship” with Stark Industries. A few weeks ago, when Tony had shown up to his school _completely_ out of the blue and offered him one on one time with him (and a rather starstruck Ned) and his lab, he held true to his promise of having Peter over again and now, Peter was over at the tower three or four times a week, working on upgrades for his suit or helping Tony with his suit (Peter wouldn't admit it, but it still blew his mind that he got to actually _touch_ the Iron Man suit, let alone help design new features for it) or Tony’s more recent project, developing new legs for a now paralyzed Rhodey.

Tony was determined to make a set of robotic legs that would allow Rhodey to walk normally again and Peter was happy to help him. Besides Germany—and even then, after getting a _plane_ dropped on him by _Captain fucking America_ , Peter’s recollection of the events were hazy at best—he had yet to meet the iconic War Machine, but he could remember Tony’s agitation on the way back to his apartment, his fingers drumming on the leather seat, constantly checking his StarkPhone for news. Tony being Tony, he tried to hide it underneath jokes and sarcasm, but Peter could see the worry in his eyes, the tension in his jaw and he knew that Tony was _afraid._ Afraid of losing yet another person and he knew that his fear, his guilt at not being able to save Rhodey, pushed him to make him the best prosthetic legs that would best even human legs.

And Peter knew, that if anyone could accomplish it, it would be Mr. Stark.

_Whoops, Tony._

The bell rang, bringing Peter out of his thoughts and he heard his chemistry teacher sigh, “Alright, I thought we had more time and I know you guys are ready to get out of here, so I’ve taken the liberty of typing up the project requirements, so please collect them on your way out and have a good weekend guys.”

Peter hastily shoved his notebook into his (new) backpack—he had a bad habit of misplacing his backpacks and was now on his fourth one—and walked up to the front of the classroom, where a small line had formed in front of Mr. Smith’s desk, students jockeying for a position at the front of the line in order to get an information packet and _leave._

He ended up behind Flash, who glanced over his shoulder when he heard someone approach and visibly paled when he saw it was Peter, but tried covering it up with a dirty look before turning back around.

Peter hadn't heard much from Flash since Tony’s verbal annihilation of him in front of the whole school a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to be heeding Tony’s warning and keeping any unnecessary snide comments to himself.

Peter overheard part of Ms. Potts’ rather… _colorful_ phone call to Tony, his heightened senses picking up her ire with him until they got ten blocks away and her angry voice and Tony’s pleading had faded into the honking horns, the clanging of the trains and the thousands of voices in the restless Queens neighborhood.

He wasn't sure what became of that particular situation, anytime he’d ask, Tony would just distract him with a new idea for his suit or deflect his question with a sarcastic comment and finally, Peter just decided to give up. Whatever happened, though, seemed to work, because Flash hasn't even bothered to even look in Peter’s direction and seemed to be going out of his way to not even be within ten feet of Peter, which was _more_ than fine with Peter.

When it was Peter’s turn, he grabbed two packets, one for him and another one for the slowly approaching Ned, who was _still_ writing down notes in his notebook.

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Dude, why are you still taking notes? The lecture ended like, ten minutes ago.”

Ned looked up, startled from his hasty note taking and for the first time since class had started, made eye contact with Peter.

“Didn’t you hear Mr. Smith? Our final’s on Tuesday and I was finishing the review notes.”

At Peter’s horrified look, Ned paused, giving Peter a strange look, “Um, weren’t you paying attention at all?”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, giving a nervous laugh, “Uh, _heh,_ see I was working on some new ideas for my,” he gave a quick glance around the classroom, and seeing a few lingering people, he lowered his voice, “you know, _project_.” He said, giving Ned a meaningful look.

Ned just continued to look confused, “Uh, we just found out about the project, like, five seconds ago, how could you— _oh_ ,” he muttered, eyes widening in realization when Peter mimed his web-shooting, “— _that_ project. Right, I knew that.”

“Uh huh,” Peter said, completely unconvinced, as he began walking out of the classroom and into the busy hallway, “so anyways, review notes—“

Ned, however, seemed completely oblivious to “Hey, do you think I can help you? You know, with your,” Ned took a surreptitious look around the hallway, “ _project_? Like, I was thinking and you could use, like, an arsenal of your, _stuff_ —“

A girl walking past them shot Ned a disgusted look and Peter flushed, “Look, Ned, I appreciate it, but _Mr. Star—Tony_ , has it covered. I’ve seen the blue prints and he has like, five hundred different web combinations and they’re so awesome—“

“ _You’re on a first name basis with Iron Man_?!” Ned said loudly and the people still lingering in the hallway turned and glanced in their direction curiously. Peter laughed nervously, giving them an awkward wave before turning back to Ned, shooting him a glaring

“ _Dude._ ” Peter hissed, annoyed.

Ned gave him a weak smile, “Sorry.”

Peter sighed, shaking his head, “Look, right now, I need to worry about passing Chemistry and that starts with this project,” Peter said, staring down at the paper in his hands forlornly, “which _sucks_ because I was supposed to help Mr. Stark with more Iron Man upgrades today and I had this totally awesome idea for my web shooters that I thought of in Chemistry that I was gonna run by him and now I have to cancel—“

“Cancel on who?” A familiar voice said from behind him. Ned squeaked in surprise, seeming to forget that he’d met the man before and even played with his robots, “and kid, what’d I tell you about the whole Mr. Stark thing? It makes me feel old and I’m clearly anything but old.”

Peter closed his eyes, wincing, before turning around and giving Tony a panicked look, “Uh, hi um, Tony, what are you doing here?”

Tony gave him an assessing look and Peter swore he could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but when he blinked it was gone, “I guess aside from a new phone, I also need to get you a calendar, you see it’s Friday and you usually come to the tower on Friday—“

“No, I know that, I just meant, well, usually Happy picks me up.” Peter said lamely, twisting his hands nervously.

Tony raised his eyebrow, eyeing his hands, “Happy’s waiting in the car, I came to see what was taking you so long.”

Peter’s eyes widened, Oh, well, it’s just well, I uh, something’s come up so—“

Both eyebrows raised this time and Peter stuttered, “Uh, well, you see, um—“

“Peter’s flunking Chemistry,” Ned blurted out, “and we got assigned this ridiculous project today and it’s worth half of our final grade and we only have until Monday to do it—“

“ _Ned_.” Peter whispered harshly, shooting him a betrayed look over his shoulder.

He at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Ned,” Tony said approvingly and Ned preened at the praise. Turning to Peter, he nodded to the paper still clutched in Peter’s hand and held his hand out, “normally I have a thing with people handing me things, but c’mon, cough it up.” he said, wiggling his fingers and reluctantly, Peter handed it over and Tony read it over.

“Chain reactions _blah blah blah_ , build a model of a paper maché volcano and pick two chemical elements from below that can cause a chain reaction in the volcano and make it erupt, _blah blah, science stuff_ , or if you can think any other natural disasters that can cause a chain reaction, _blah and more science stuff_ , due Monday, worth half of you final grade—“

Tony blinked, “Huh, I didn’t know they were still making you do these things— _seriously_ , a paper maché volcano? The education system needs a serious reboot.”

Tony folded the paper in half and then tucked it in to his suit jacket, “Right, well, this sounds important so we better get started—I’d say you could tag along, Ned, but the Audi only seats two, so.” He nodded at him and turned on his heel and began walking down the hallway.

Ned was torn between staring after Tony’s retreating figure and staring at Peter with disbelieving eyes, “Dude, are you sure that spider that bit you is dead? Because honestly? I could go for a radio-active spider bite if it means I get to work on my school project with _Tony Stark_ —“

“Underoos, you coming? We’ve got a few stops to make before we head back to the tower, so get a move on, a little pep in the step.” Tony said, stopping at the end of the hallway and gesturing to the door with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

“Good-bye, Ned.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, fine—I’ll make my own radioactive Spider since you don’t want to share! An army of radioactive spiders, an _army_ Peter—“

Ignoring the stares from the few students that were still at the school, Peter followed Tony out to the front of the school and to his illegally parked, sleek candy apple red Audi R8 Spyder. Peter practically salivated at the sight of the car—barely managing a half-hearted wave at Happy who was parked behind Tony in the town car—running his fingers reverently over the door handle, all but whimpering at the warm paint and fiberglass underneath his fingertips.

He jumped when the wind rolled down with a barely audible _hum_ , Tony’s body craning over the gear shift to stare at Peter impatiently, “Are you gonna stand there and drool all over my car or actually get in it?”

Peter flushed, hastily opening the door and situating himself in the plush leather seats, “Where are we going?” he asked as he closed the door gently.

Tony revved the engine, darting out into the late afternoon traffic, “My lab isn’t stocked with everything we need and I know just the place.”

 

~~~~~~

 

_Hobby Lobby_ to Tony, Peter was learning, was what most candy stores were to toddlers.

He weaved in and out of the aisles with such ease that led Peter to believe that this wasn’t his first trip here and Peter followed him, for lack of any other options and watched in disbelief as Tony threw item after item into the cart, not even bothering to look at _prices_.

“Mr. Stark—there’s no way I can afford all this, May only gives me twenty dollars a week and this looks like it’s _way_ more than twenty dollars—“

Peter looked down at all the supplies in the cart mournfully, his wallet physically aching at the amount of… _stuff_ Mr. Stark had piled into the cart. This was supposed to be a little chemistry project and Mr. Stark was treating it like one of his projects--expensive, flashy, but bound to impress, as usual.

Tony seemed to be paying him no mind, however, holding up a box of plastic palm trees with an interest that would be amusing if dancing dollar signs weren’t obscuring Peter’s vision and making him vaguely nauseous.

“Nonsense, kid,” Mr. Stark said dismissively, reading the back of the box with a quirked brow, “do you think twenty-five of these things would be enough? We don’t want it to be _too_ tropical looking because Chile, believe it or not, has a nice balance between palm trees and regular trees—and hey, didn’t I tell you stop calling me that? It’s Tony or nothing.”

“Okay, Nothing,” Peter said cheekily and at Tony’s glare, his smirk faded, “s-sorry, uh, Tony.”

Tony’s lip twitched into a smile, as he tossed two boxes of the plastic palm trees into their cart and continued down the aisle, giving Peter no choice but to follow.

“Seriously, Tony I can’t accept this—“

Tony stopped so suddenly that Peter narrowly missed hitting him with the cart, once again thankful for his quick reflexes, stopping the cart just shy of ramming him in the ankles.

Tony turned to Peter, eyes unusually devoid of his signature sunglasses, giving Peter a rare opportunity to see the depth of emotions flash through his dark eyes.

“Kid,” Tony started, but stopped himself, letting out a sigh. He looked tired, like he was fighting an internal battle and losing and suddenly, Peter felt a surge of sympathy for the billionaire standing in front of him.

“Look, my dad never…took an interest in this—stuff,” Tony said, gesturing to the cart full of merchandise, everything from a papier mâché kit, paint, fake grass to the plastic palm trees and those little foam building kit things Peter remembered making in kindergarten, “actually, I’ve never made one of these things before, can’t exactly turn one of these things in at MIT and expect to get an A in chem lab,” Tony continued with a snort, “anyway, my point is, I don’t really mind helping you with this, homework, projects, whatever.” He finished, waving a dismissive hand

Peter was taken aback, not expecting something that… _vulnerable_ to come out of Tony’s mouth, especially in aisle eight of _Hobby Lobby_ , but either way, Peter was touched.

Uncle Ben always helped him with these projects and while he always said he was never as smart as his brother, Peter’s dad, he was still good at putting things together and as long as Peter did all the _science-y stuff_ , as he liked to call it, he’d help him piece it together.

Peter knew that Tony couldn't ever take Uncle Ben’s place, no one could, and while he wasn't sure _why_ Tony went out of his way to help Peter, he knew Tony would never try to replace what Uncle Ben was to him. And Peter himself hadn't quite figured out where Tony fit into his life, but he cared about Tony like he did Aunt May and Ned and possibly MJ, in her own little twisted way.

And he knew that Tony cared about him, in his own way, because if he didn’t, he wouldn't be dropping, what Peter was sure, well over three hundred dollars in _Hobby Lobby_ for Peter’s dumb little science project that was soon becoming something to be featured at next years Stark Expo if Tony’s rough outline he’d drawn up in the car on the back of the project packet was actually brought to life.

“Besides,” Tony continued off-handedly, “I already knew you were flunking Chemistry, your rather attractive Aunt called me and told me your grades were slipping because of the ‘internship’—which we’ll discuss later, by the way—so I thought that until they get back on level ground, we won’t be working on any upgrades anytime soon and focusing, instead, on getting you through the tenth grade.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest—his grades weren’t _that_ bad, with all things considered. And while _maybe_ they weren't up to his usual standard (Peter had never gotten a grade lower than a _B_ before in his life) they were still passing. Peter sometimes wished he had an average level of intellect, because if he hadn't been such an _overachiever_ with all the extra-curricular activities and maintaining a 4.0 GPA in the process, well, his grades dropping to B’s and C’s wouldn't seem like the end of the world—but Tony was already off again, weaving through the aisles and tossing random things into the cart, that, at this point, Peter was sure had nothing to do with his actual project and were more so there because Tony thought they were cool.

“Do you think this place has food dye? A good volcano has to have red lava and no kid of mine is going to have a volcano with substandard lava. What do you think about actual fire coming out of the top of the volcano? Is that too much? Nothing crazy of course, just a few minor pyrotechnics to give it that extra _pop_ —“

Peter rolled his eyes, but silently agreed that fire coming out of the top would be pretty _awesome_ , even if it was slight over-kill, and trailed after Tony, who was muttering something about color schemes and an earthquake involving batteries, and tried to ignore the smile that threatened at the corner of his lips at Tony calling him _his kid._

 

~~~~

 

After their very expensive trip into Hobby Lobby—Peter still felt dizzy and vaguely nauseous at the memory of Tony, not even batting an eye at the grand total, whipping out a black Amex and swiping it without even a sign of hesitation that Peter _may_ or _may_ not have been searching for—they made their way back to the Tower, Tony gesturing to Happy to grab the bags as he took a call from Pepper about the newest StarkPhone release.

Happy shot him a reproachful look, but it was replaced by something that resembled a smile, at least, by Happy’s standards, when Peter silently walked around to the trunk of the car and helped gather some of the bags. Peter, with his super spidey strength, managed to grab the majority of the bags, leaving Happy with two.

“Show off.” Happy muttered grumpily, which Peter gracefully ignored and lead the way down to the lab, where Happy deposited his bags and made a quick escape before Peter could even blink.

While he waited for Tony to get off the phone, Peter pulled up some ideas for his volcano on the internet and began scrolling through the websites google had offered up.

He didn’t have much time to browse before Tony came down to the lab, trading his three piece suit that Peter was sure was worth more than six months worth of May’s rent, for his usual lab attire—an old band t-shirt and grease stained jeans, an outfit, Peter was sure, was still worth more than any meager possessions Peter had combined.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., please pull up the blue prints for Underoos school project,” Tony said, clapping his hands together and Peter was a bit taken a back by the amount of eagerness that gleamed in his eyes.

Following his request, the lights in the room dimmed and in the center of the lab, a hologram of a real life volcano appeared, scaled down to about an eight feet by ten feet measurement and glowing brightly in the dimness of the lab. Peter’s mouth dropped open in awe, his cracked phone lying forgotten on the lab table behind him as he made his way over to study the diagram more closely.

It was the same sketch that was on the back of the paper explaining the project, only this time, Peter could see the added details that Tony must’ve added on the car ride back to the tower. Everything from the layers of the volcano, down to the last of the fifty palm trees Tony had insisted on buying.

“This is amazing,” Peter breathed, eyes wide, hungrily taking in every detail.

Tony hummed in satisfaction, coming to stand beside Peter, eyeing the hologram with a sense of pride he didn’t even bother to hide, “It is, isn’t it? I took some artistic liberties, modeling it after the actual volcano but adding more aesthetically pleasing attributes, like if _Mount Vesuvius_ was in Hawaii. If there’s anything on here that you don’t like, we can take it out, scrap it and start over—“

Peter wasn't really sure what possessed him to do it—he knew how Tony felt about emotional displays of affection, let alone _physical_ displays of affection, but he was just overwhelmed with all the time Tony had put into this little chemistry project and the lengths Tony had gone to help Peter with it. No one, _no one_ , had ever gone to such trouble for Peter, especially for something that was so small and seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of all the things Tony Stark had to do that were _far_ more important than Peter’s _Chemistry grade_ —but he found himself pressed against Mr. Stark’s strong chest, his arms that were _still_ bony even after the spider bite, wrapping around Tony’s waist and _squeezing._

“Thank you, Tony.” Peter whispered, his voice a few octaves higher thanks to well, not quite completing puberty and the amount of pure excitement flooding through his veins.

Tony froze, clearly caught off guard, arms flailing awkwardly at his sides before he settled them on Peter’s shoulders, squeezing them quickly, his discomfort with the situation quite obvious, “Um, is this a hug, right? It’s just, I’m not quite sure, it looked like you were reaching out to touch the hologram so this would be a little awkward if that was the case—“

Peter huffed a laugh, stepping away from Tony’s stilted body, cheeks flaming in embarrassment, “Uh, sorry, Tony, _heh_ , my bad.”

Tony couldn't help but smile, rolling his eyes and clapping Peter on the shoulder, “C’mon, kid, we've only got the weekend to do this, we better get started.”

Peter bobbed his head in agreement, taking one last look at the holographic blue prints still floating in the middle of the lab before he began wandering back to the lab table, where all of their supplies were laid out and ready for use.

Before he could wander too far, a hand reached out and grasped him on the shoulder. Tony gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, smile slightly unsure, but his dark eyes were sincere, “Don’t mention it, kiddo.”

 

~~~~~~

 

“Alright, so test one—DUM-E, don’t make me regret putting you on fire duty again, one wrong move and you get demoted—Peter, hit the button on my mark, F.R.I.D.A.Y, give me a little mood lighting please and three, two, one—“

Tony gestured for Peter to hit the button and with a small _click_ as Peter complied, they waited for it and—

_Nothing_

DUM-E chirped unhappily from his designated spot by the corner of the lab table and Peter shared his sentiment.

Tony visibly deflated, sighing, “Well, that was anti-climatic. Alright, Underoos, strip it apart, we've got some requiring to do—and hey, DUM-E, don't think I can’t see your little trigger happy fingers, no fire, no extinguishing, capiche?”

If a robot could sound contrite, DUM-E’s little defeated hoot would fall into that category and Peter couldn't help but laugh.

 

~~~~~

 

“Alright, test two on my mark—DUM-E, look alive—and three, two, one—“

_BOOM!_

The volcano exploded, red dye going _everywhere_ , splattering all over the table, a flabbergasted Peter and an equally as surprised Tony. Flames erupted from the top, like someone flipped on a blow torch and couldn't _shut it off_ and right on cue, DUM-E blasted the volcano with the fire extinguisher a little _too_ enthusiastically and Peter coughed violently, his heightened senses going into overload at the overeager assault.

“Okay, DUM-E— _DUM-E_ ,” Tony shouted, snapping his fingers to get the overzealous bot’s attention, “That’s enough—no, _DUM-E_ ,” Tony said warningly when the bot’s claw reached for the trigger again, “do you want to wear the Dunce hat again? Because I will, so help me.”

DUM-E gave a petulant chirp and Peter reached over to give him a consoling pat on the head, to which DUM-E hooted brightly.

Tony gave Peter an exasperated look, “First rule of parenting: don’t reward bad behavior and look,” he said accusingly, gesturing between the two, “you’re encouraging it.”

Peter scowled, putting a protective hand on DUM-E, “He’s just trying to help, he’s just… _committed_ , see? No more fire.” Peter said, nodding towards the rather _thorough_ job DUM-E did, where the previously flamed-engulfed volcano that was threatening to set the lab on fire was now extinguished, smoke curling still curling in the air and only occasionally letting out an ominous hissing sound that Peter tried not to think too much on.

Tony rolled his eyes, but seem to let it go and focus on the now fulling hissing volcano, “Okay, that was too close to an actual volcanic eruption and while cool, that’s not safe for any classroom, we’re not trying to reenact _Pompeii_ or anything.”

Tony gave the volcano a gentle nudge, jumping back when a flame flared and DUM-E, still on standby, gave it another keen dousing from the fire extinguisher.

“DUM-E, that’s— _no_ , _DUM-E no_ —“

 

~~~~~~

 

It took them a few more tries and a few more explosions and Tony eventually revoking DUM-E’s fire safety privileges and threatening to turn him into a blender, for them to get a volcanic eruption that didn’t burst into flames or just trickle sadly out of the soda bottle that was serving as their prototype for the volcano.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupted them in the middle of building the platform to remind Tony that he still had yet to actually eat anything and as if on cue, Peter’s stomach growled loudly.

He gave Tony a sheepish smile, “I didn’t eat lunch today.”

Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes, “Alright, c’mon kid, I can’t have you passing out on the lab floor, U still isn't that great with a broom yet, let alone picking up actual humans, so let’s get you some food—you like Thai, right?”

Peter nodded the affirmative and he let Tony lead him out of the lab up to the main floor of the tower to the kitchen, gesturing for him to take a seat at the counter.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., pull up some menus for the kid to look at and while you’re at it, go a head and put in my usual order.”

“It’s already been done, sir.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded as she brought up local Thai menus for Peter to peruse.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Tony asked the dutiful A.I.

“As my memory serves me, sir, you’ve never actually used those particular words to express such outwards displays of affection before, so no, you have not.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied dryly

Tony frowned and Peter snorted in amusement at the sass, but stifled it at Tony’s glare.

“Uh, I’ll just have two orders of Larb with a side of white rice and sticky rice pudding for later,” Peter said hastily, tapping away the menus.

“Got that, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony asked and the A.I. replied in the affirmative.

“Yes, sir, ETA is twenty minutes.” She confirmed.

When the food arrived, they sat at the counter and ate their respective dishes and chatted amicably about their day. Tony watched as Peter all but inhaled his food, much to Tony’s amusement and slight concern that went unnoticed by Peter, who was too absorbed in his sticky rice pudding and shouting trivia questions at F.R.I.D.A.Y. for his history homework.

He wasn't sure if it was just basic teenage growing pains—Tony could remember his mother chastising his eating habits at that age, comparing him to a garbage disposal with the amount of food he could pack away—or if his metabolism, along with everything else in the kid’s DNA, had been enhanced as well. Which, come to think of it, wasn't that far fetched and Tony made a mental note to hack into Oscorp’s files to see if he could dig anything up on the spider that had given Peter his powers and compare it to the serum that was responsible for Captain Righteous and his abilities.

Tony found it ironic how he could care less about his own eating habits, but yet, here he was, watching as Peter basically licked his plate clean and the worry just continued to gnaw away at his stomach and he had to wonder _if it ever went away_.

This thought continued as they finished their meals and went back down into the lab and continued working on Peter’s project that was shaping up to be pretty awesome if Tony did say so himself. They worked well together, both of them focused and bouncing ideas off of each other that always seemed to be on the same wave length and Tony _lived_ for it. The only other person who ever shared his love for science was Bruce and he hadn’t heard from him since _Ultron_ and that familiar ache settled into his chest at memories of what used to be.

But that ache was soothed when he turned to see how Peter’s attempts at papier maché were going and a small, fond smile crossed his lips at the sight of Peter, passed out on the lab table, head cushioned by the pile of newspaper, shoulders rising and falling in soft snores.

Glancing down at his StarkWatch, he noticed they’d been down here for over four hours and it was heading closer to ten o’clock and after taking another look at Peter’s face, seeing the dark shadows under his eyes and ever growing bags, he deiced against waking the kid to take him home.

Instead, he told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to text May and let her know that Peter would be crashing at the tower tonight and then he scooped the kid up from the chair in a bridal carry, tucking his head underneath his chin and made his way out of the lab and into the elevator, murmuring to F.R.I.D.A.Y. to take him to the penthouse floor.

When they arrived to Tony’s floor, he ambled down the hall way, stopping a few doors dow from his room, to what used to be a guest room, but had been re-decorated and personalized for the kid currently snuggling into his chest. After the kid’s first visit to tower, Tony had decided to give Peter his own room in case he ever wanted it or needed it, whatever the reason, he wanted the kid to know that he had a place to come to, that he was _always_ welcome here.

He pulled back the dark blue comforter and matching sheets, placing Peter gently down on the California king bed, untying his ratty Converse and tossing them to the foot of the bed so the kid wouldn't trip over them in the morning.

Peter murmured something in his sleep and for a moment, Tony was afraid that he’d woken him up, but Peter simply settled against the pillow, snuggling further into the blankets and seemed to relax against the soft sheets.

Something warm and unfamiliar unfurled in his chest at the sight of kid snoozing away in the too big bed and not for the first time, Tony was struck with just how _young_ the kid was. Peter carried himself with such maturity and a level headedness that Tony had never seen before in some adults, let alone _teenagers,_ that sometimes, Tony forgot that he was in fact, a teenager, who still had school projects to do and had a weekly allowance and worried about pimples and zits and when puberty would finally _end_ and if the pretty girl at school even knew he existed, let alone knew his _name_ and it made Tony so _angry_ , to think that this kid had been robbed of a normal childhood.

Tony learned at a young age that the world was a cruel bitch and he wished, more than anything, that Peter could’ve been spared that lesson for just a little bit longer. Peter was just so good and kind and he deserved so much better than the hand that he’d been dealt. He didn’t deserve to carry the weight of being a teenager _and_ a superhero all at once and looking down at the dark shadows lurking underneath Peter’s closed eyes, Tony vowed to himself that he’d do anything he could to shoulder some of that weight.

He brushed Peter’s dark hair off of his forehead, a small smile dancing on his lips when Peter leaned into his touch.

“Goodnight, Peter.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

It took them the entire weekend, but they got Peter’s volcano finished and the end result was worth all the time they’d spent in the lab. Tony couldn't remember the last time he threw himself into something so heavily, the last model of the Iron Man suit or the first prototype of Peter’s suit or Rhodey’s legs, maybe, but despite the exhaustion, it felt good to be of use to someone again.

And the giant grin on Peter’s face as he stood back and admired their work was worth any re-painting he was going have to the lab after the _many_ explosions they faced in the beginning of the project. Red dye was literally _everywhere_ , but chose to put that thought out of his mind for now and enjoy the look on Peter’s face as he took in his school project.

It was Peter’s idea to use the earthquake in Chile as a catalyst for the volcanic eruption that occurred three days after the earthquake. Underneath the board, they’d built replicas of tectonic plates that visibly shifted, simulating a real earthquake when they pressed a button. After the ‘earthquake’ was over, the volcano rumbled and hissed, steam rising and Tony got his wish for small flames to burst from the volcano—even though Peter was _pretty_ sure that there weren’t actual flames involved with a real volcanic eruption, but Tony looked so excited at the the prospect of flames in a classroom that Peter didn’t have the heart to say no—and rocks tumbled down into the small town with roads, a replica of the ocean and little foam towns with little G.I. Joe figures serving as the towns occupants.

Peter was _definitely_ getting an A

“This is _awesome_ ,” he breathed, turning wide brown eyes to Tony, “thank you so much, seriously, this is…” he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, “so much more than what I imagined.” he finished softly, looking back up at Tony with so much admiration and gratitude that Tony shifted awkwardly, unsure what to do.

“It’s no problem, kid, seriously,” Tony said finally, clearing his throat, “like I said the other day, my dad never did…anything like this with me,” Tony paused, “not to insinuate that you think of me as your dad or anything, _heh_ , it’s probably best that you don’t, I’m not the greatest role model and why do you think I never had kids? It’s not something I’m meant for, you know, the whole soccer dad vibe isn't really my style and with the whole superhero thing too, I mean—“

Tony was cut off by Peter wrapping his arms around him— _seriously_ , this kid had a bad habit of catching Tony off guard with all the random displays of affection—and settling his head on his chest.

Tony, despite his hesitation with such obvious displays, he wrapped his arms around the kid and gave him a squeeze. He hated to admit it, but the kid was growing on him, a lot more than he originally planned.

Peter pulled away, cheeks beat red, but a small smile was playing on his lips, “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great dad,” Peter glanced down at his shoes, scuffing them against the white tiling, “I don't really remember much about my dad and Ben was the closest thing I’ve ever had,” he faltered, biting his lip, “but, you’ve kind of filled that void? I mean, you didn’t really take his place, but, you remind me of him, in a lot of ways? Like, he used to help me with this stuff and it just means a lot to me, that you’re here for me and I—“ Peter coughed, glancing up at Tony with a sheepish smile, “So thank you, for well, being you.” he finished lamely, blushing.

Tony was taken aback by the kid’s confession, but his heart warmed, “Kid,” he began gently, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “I hope you know that it’s not my goal to take your Uncle’s place or replace him in any sort of way,” he paused, considering his next words, “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”

Peter smiled and Tony clapped him on the back, “Now, c’mon kid, let’s get you home. Your hot Aunt probably thinks I’ve kidnapped you or something, I’ll have Happy drop your project off at school tomorrow.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Peter did get his A, but there was a… _slight mishap_ with the flames and Flash’s eyebrows ( _or lack thereof_ ) and that was how he found himself, along with Tony, in the principal’s office, facing a very unimpressed Mr. Morita.

“Mr. Stark, while it’s an honor to meet you, I wish it was under different circumstances. We encourage ingenuity here at Mid-Town and we wish for our students to get creative with their projects, but _flames_ , in a _classroom_ —“

“In my defense, that kid was standing way too close to Peter’s project to begin with—“

“And that kid, Mr. Stark, happens to be the kid you verbally assaulted out on the front lawn a few weeks ago—“

“Okay, have you met that kid? He was asking for it, what kind of name is _Flash_ anyway? And besides, that kid was picking on _my_ kid—“

Peter shrunk down in his chair, but he couldn't hide the grin on his face. Peter could admit that the flames were too much,but he got an A and was no longer flunking Chemistry, Flash no longer had eyebrows and Tony called him _his_ kid again. Whatever repercussions he was facing was totally _worth it_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions or scenarios you guys would like to see in future chapters? I have a few ideas but I'd love to hear y'alls input! Thanks for reading :)


	3. Underage Drinkning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! No, you guys aren’t misreading this, it’s an actual update! It’s taken me a long time to get back into this story, my life has been very crazy and I’ll be honest, I haven’t written much in the last six to eight moths. However, I saw Infinity War and holy shit, did it place me back in this Universe. I’ve had the beginnings of this chapter to written out since the last update of this story and it took me this long to finish it. I’m not sure how happy I am with this chapter compared to the last two, but I think it fits. I know Peter has Super Spidey healing, but I’m such a sucker for these kinds of fics and I really wanted to write one. Thank you so much for the love and support of this series, the response to this had blown me away and I'm incredibly thankful! I hope you guys enjoy this and as always, comments and kudos are much appreciated and encouraged ! :) also, please forgive any errors, I finished this at two in the morning and I'm very tired and I really wanted to post it.

It was an unusually quiet night around the Tower, Rhodey was upstate at the new Avengers facility for his weekend stint of physical therapy for his legs, Pepper was back in Malibu working on the new StarkPhone launch and Happy had followed her there for security, leaving Tony to his own devices.

When usually when left with nothing to do, he’d be down in the lab working on a project or tinkering with the Iron Man suit or rebuilding the transmission in one of the twenty cars that he owned. But, for some reason, he found himself in the living room, staring at an infomercial and occasionally replying to emails that he’d been neglecting over the week— choosing to spend time with Peter in the lab instead.

Ever since he invited Peter and his little friend into the lab a few weeks ago, Tony found that he didn’t really mind the kid’s company and what had originally started as a one time offer to appease his guilt, had turned into a three or four time a week thing. Sometimes the kid would come over and they’d screw around with upgrades to the Iron Man suit or they’d try to improve upon Peter’s web fluid—which, Tony admitted with no small amount of pride, was damn near impossible considering Peter’s original formula was damn near _solid._ That didn’t stop them from trying to make it stronger and last longer, but their attempts usually didn’t come out very successful, much to their collective frustration. And sometimes, when they were tired of messing with Iron Man or formula’s for new web fluid, Peter would wander off to a part of the lab table that had become his own little spot and catch up on his homework, occasionally asking for Tony’s input.

And Tony… _didn’t_ really mind. He didn’t mind that Peter had slowly but surely became part of his daily routine and taking up a space in his life that Tony, once upon a time, didn’t really want to be fulfilled. He knew that Peter wasn't necessarily a child of his own biological making, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a sense of responsibility and dare he say it, an _attachment_ to the kid that was more _paternal_ than mentor like. He liked having the kid around him, in his lab, in this big Tower that got more lonely as the days went by without the other Avenger’s bustling around it—Sam teaching Vision and Wanda to cook in the kitchen, Natasha and Clint wrestling in the living room, Steve watching from the couch with exasperated amusement in between sketches, Thor polishing his hammer at the dinner table while Rhodey read the news paper and Bruce tinkering around in the lab with Tony.

Peter breathed life into this Tower that had been robbed of it when the Accords came into play and had divided the only family Tony had ever really been apart of. And damn if Tony didn’t _love_ the kid for it.

So that’s why, sitting there, _alone_ in his big and empty Tower, that Tony began to physically _feel_ the kid’s absence.

He glanced down at his StarkWatch, biting his lip. It was 10:30, surely the kid wasn't that busy that if he were to, theoretically, call the kid and see if he wanted to come over tomorrow and work in the lab, maybe go to the new science exhibit at Museum of Natural History—he did, after all, have an in to the Research Library—grab a late lunch and come back and watch some movies with Vision and Rhodey, since it was still technically movie night even though the rest of the old team wasn't here and if it got too late, he could always crash in his room here and he could always take Peter to school Monday morning, as long as it was cool with Aunt Hottie—

“Sir, you have an incoming call from Ned Leeds,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, startling Tony out of his train of thought.

Curiosity piqued, Tony said with a wave of his hand, “Patch him through.”

A moment of silence and then the sound of loud music and laughter rang through the overhead speakers of the Tower, making Tony wince.

“Mr. Stark, sir, sorry to interrupt your evening, I’m sure you’re very busy, but may I just say that I think it’s totally awesome that your A.I. answers your phone calls—“

“Thanks, Guy In Chair, but—“

“Can she do like, a trace on the number and then like, a background check on the person—“

“—how’d you get my number? And, here’s the real question, how’d I get your number?”

“Oh, I got your number from Peter’s phone and I did a reverse phone hack and added myself into your contact list, in case of an emergency—“

“Lemme stop you there kid,” Tony said sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache, “you mean to tell me, you stole my number from Peter’s phone and managed to reverse hack into my phone, which, by the way, _I don’t appreciate_ , and added your number to my phone on the off chance that I would need to call you? And why, may I ask, do you think that would ever be a possibility?”

The tell tale sign of a _gulp_ could be heard over the line and Tony sighed in exasperation, “Was there a point to this conversation, Ned or—“

_“Oh!”_ Ned exclaimed, “Yeah, sorry sir, um you see, it’s Peter—“

Tony’s heart most definitely _didn’t_ stop working at that sentence and it didn’t seem like taking oxygen into his lungs suddenly became more difficult at the thought of Peter being in any sort of danger.

“Is he okay?” Tony demanded, sitting up straighter and summoning the suit.

“You see sir, I told everyone in our gym class that Peter knew Spiderman and then Liz—this really pretty senior that, like, half the school is in love with including Peter—mentioned she was having a party tonight at her house that basically the entire school was invited to and that we should stop by, which was so awesome because we’re only sophomore’s sir and not cool people—“

“If there’s a point here, Ned, I’m missing it, so you better get to it.” Tony demanded sharply.

“Right, anyway, we got invited and well, um, Peter was nervous and a senior handed us each a drink and Peter downed his and well, he’s really drunk and is about to swing through this house in his, you know, _other identity_ and I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen to me and—“

“I’ll be there in five, try to stall him as best as you can.” Tony said quickly, ending the call.

He ensured that F.R.I.D.A.Y. had located the call before he summoned one of his cars to the location and he was off into the night, trying to quell the anger and shame that was boiling through his veins.

Anger, that the kid could be that stupid and utterly _reckless_ , to risk his secret and the safety of his loved ones for kids he wouldn’t even waste another thought on after graduating high school.

And shame, because he knew what it was like to be Peter’s age and to want to be seen and seem cool by your peers. To want to fit in so desperately that you're willing to do almost anything to get it. Alcohol has cost Tony so many things in his life and he’d be damned if he let someone like Peter follow in his footsteps.

He made it to the party in three minutes, taking a moment to do the deep breathing exercises Bruce taught him, so he didn’t completely lose it on the kid and alert everyone to his sudden appearance at the party. He landed with a dull thud against the roof, alerting the intoxicated teenager that was attempting to don his suit a little too closely to edge of the roof for Tony’s heart to handle.

He really was quite the sight—he had the suit on backwards, well the half he had on, the other half was dangling pathetically in the evening breeze while Peter seemed to be trying to figure out how to get the rest of it on without jumping too far and falling off of the roof.

“Mr. Starkkkkk!” Peter slurred in greeting, eyes bright and blood shot with the alcohol, “What’re you doin’ here? Did you know there was go’na be a party here? Did Liz invite you—“

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony demanded, completely ignoring Peter’s inquiry, lifting the faceplate of the Iron Man mask. He was doing everything in his power to keep his voice level and not shout like he so desperately wanted to, breathing exercises be damned.

Peter hiccuped, “”M trying to put my suit on because I told ev’ryone that ‘Piderman was go’na be here, but— _hiccup_ —I got ‘istracted when I got here n’d now my head s’all—“ he made a waving gesture in the air, like that explained it all, which, to be fair, Tony did understand what he meant a little too well and it only added to the anger welling inside of him, “—weird, like it’s not part of my body n’d I was go’na swing through the house n’d be like ‘wasss up ev’rybody ‘m ‘Piderman’ and give Ned a fist bump so he looks like he’s cool too—“

“And how do you plan to do all of that when you can’t even get both legs in your suit, kid?”

Peter gazed dumbly back at him, before looking down and _yeah, okay. Mr. Stark had a point._

He looked back up at Tony with unfocused eyes and with such a blatant uncaring shrug that only teenagers knew how to accomplish, that Tony snapped.

“Do you realize how stupid this is?” Tony said sharply, “Not only could you hurt yourself or someone else, you’re running the risk of outing yourself to your entire school! Who, I’m sure, have all their little smartphones with their little cameras and it’s only a matter of time before this would end up on YouTube, then the media would get a hold of it and then that’s it, kid, you’re no longer anonymous and you’ve put everyone you love in danger. Do you want that?”

Peter opened his mouth to reply but Tony couldn’t handle it, “Not uh, you don’t get to talk, the adult is talking,” he snapped, waving his hand as if he could physically swat the rebuttal on the kid’s tongue away, “Now, what you're going to do is get out of the suit, put your clothes back on and then you’re coming back to the Tower with me and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do it without any sort of complaint.”

Peter, thankfully, heeded Tony’s words and, after some struggling, managed to get the suit off and into his own clothes. He swayed slightly on the spot and Tony acted fast, tapping the center of Peter’s suit, summoning it back to the Tower and he scooped Peter up, cradling him like a baby against his chest. Peter rested his head gratefully against the cool armor, the world beginning to spin around him at an uncomfortable rate as he felt the repulsers of the suit ignite and Mr. Stark take off into the night.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., please send a text to Peter’s little friend and inform him there’s a car waiting for him outside and that it will escort him home and that if he doesn't leave that party in five minutes, it’ll be a phone call to his mother.” He heard Mr. Stark’s voice over the whooshing of the wind and Peter giggled. Who knew Mr. Drunken-Womanizing-Playboy-Tony Stark could be such a dad.

_Iron Man, more like Iron Dad_ , Peter thought to himself, giggling.

His giggling came to an abrupt stop, however, when his stomach gave a uncomfortable lurch. Suddenly, the cool wind washing over his face felt suffocating and Peter could picture how high up they were, how small the buildings would be and how the only thing separating him from death was Mr. Stark’s gentle grip and his stomach gave another churn and then—

_Oh no_

“Uh, Tony, I—I—don’t feel so good—“

“Kid, I swear to god, if you toss your cookies all over this suit—“

He opened his mouth to reply, but instead of words, the tacos he and Ned split before the party came back up and he tried, he really tried to aim away from the suit, but there was only so much he could do when he was squished against Tony’s chest and suspended twenty-thousand feet into the air.

“Mr. Stark, I am so—“ Peter began, beyond mortified and feeling much more sober than he was five minutes ago, but Tony shook his head and Peter could feel the heat of his glare through the faceplate of the suit.

“Save it, kid. You’re lucky this is one of my older suits.”

~~~~~~~~~~  
They made it back to the Tower without another incident and once Tony was out of the ruined suit, he sent it off with DUM-E to get it hosed off, he sent Peter up to his room and he sent himself to the bar for a drink.

He eyed the bottle of bourbon, but thoughts of a drunk and stumbling Peter on a roof top made him opt for a bottle of water instead.

He collapsed on the couch, suddenly feeling everyone of his years and rubbing his temples to ward off the migraine that he could feel blooming behind his eyelids, he wondered, not for the first time, how he could've done this to his mother. Tony had started drinking right around Peter’s age, and at first, it had started as something to piss his father off, but he soon came to realize that alcohol numbed the pain and help hide the scars his father’s words had left behind. Drinking had turned to experimenting with drugs and if it wasn't for Rhodey, who’d pulled him back from the brink of every bender, he would’ve been dead before his twenty-first birthday.

His drinking and partying had put a strain on his relationship with his mother and did nothing but serve to be a source of shame for his father with all the headlines his drunken shenanigans had earned him.

And while Peter wasn’t his kid, not biologically or legally, he felt responsible for the kid. A sense of duty to steer this kid in the right direction and Tony would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t love the kid and care about his wellbeing.

Peter reminded him a lot of himself at fifteen. Always the smartest kid in the room, always interested in things that weren’t cool and struggling to find a place amongst his peers who teased him for being who he was. The difference, however, was that Peter was _good._ He was so inherently good and all the harsh things that this world had done to him had yet to diminish the purity and resolute kindness that radiated off of the kid in waves. Peter used his powers because he wanted to _help_ people, Tony did it because he hoped, that maybe, for every life he saved, every act of good he did, it would serve as a penance for all the bad he had done to the world.

Peter was too good of a kid to turn out like Tony and it scared him to think of Peter following in his footsteps. Of making his mistakes. He knew, logically, that Peter was still a teenager. That he was going to make mistakes, but Tony couldn't help but feel disappointed in the kid anyways. He wanted Peter to be better than him, _damn it_. He had to be.

It was only eleven, but Tony felt beyond exhausted, so he made his way to his room, passing Peter’s along the way and he couldn't help but stop and peak in the doorway. He wanted to make sure that the kid actually made it to his room in one piece and didn’t drown himself in the shower.

Peter did manage to make it in bed on his own—sprawled out on top of the sheets in the Iron Man pajamas that Tony had bought him as a joke, he never expected the kid to actually wear them—and if the snores coming out of the kid said anything, he’d been passed out for a while.

Tony smiled, shaking his head before padding softly across the fluffy carpeting of Peter’s room, grabbing a blanket that was thrown across the love seat in the corner and gently draped it over Peter. He snuggled into the warmth, seeming to relax a bit more in his sleep and Tony brushed his bangs back from his forehead.

“Oh, you’re going to be in a world of pain tomorrow, kid,” Tony muttered, “I wouldn’t wish a first time hangover on anybody.”

Peter snuffled in his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as if he heard what Tony said.

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head once more, “Good night, kid.” he whispered to the quiet room.

Peter rolled over on his stomach, burying his head in the pillows, mumbling in his sleep and Tony paused, because there’s no way that kid said what he thought he said—

_“G’night, Irondad.”_

Tony blamed the warm feeling in his chest on the alcohol that was still sitting, untouched, in the bottle downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunlight, Peter decided, was literally the worst thing that world had invented. It burned every time he opened his eyes, threatening to fry his corneas right from his skull and it was only made worse by his Spidey-senses, which usually made every one of his senses feel like it had been dialed to eleven, but today, it felt like they’d been dialed to one hundred.

And it was only made worse by the high voltage electric guitar that was blaring from downstairs and Peter recognized it as one of the songs on Tony’s _I’m Trying To Be Productive_ playlist he’d played in the lab.

_Wait—_

Peter glanced around at his surroundings and he realized he was in his room. But not in Queens, where his Very Worried Aunt would expecting him to be sleeping, safe and sound.

Instead, he was in his room.

In Stark Tower.

Which was in Manhattan.

And he had _no_ idea how he ended up here.

Cursing colorfully, Peter flew out of bed and immediately regretted it—the room started to spin and his stomach churned dangerously, bile rising in his throat and threatening to come up all over the dark grey carpeting.

He took a second to breathe, fighting back the nausea and praying he wouldn’t ruin Tony’s carpet. Eventually, the restless ocean in his stomach mellowed out, the nausea turning into more of a _bleh_ feeling.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Peter asked hesitantly, rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?” The A.I. responded dutifully.

“What happened last night?” Peter asked, toeing the carpet and wondering if he really wanted to know that answer. Now that he was awake, the night was coming back to him in flashes and he prayed that some of those flashes were _wrong._

“Mr. Stark received a call from Mr. Leeds last night at around 10:35 pm, informing him of your whereabouts and possible levels of intoxication and he flew to the residence of Ms. Liz Allan’s, where he encountered you, on her roof, attempting to put on your suit. He flew you to the Tower and provided a car to escort Mr. Leeds home.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied.

Peter nodded—which, come to find out, makes splitting headaches worse—and thought over all the information the A.I. had provided for him and while all of it fit, there was one thing that was missing and he hoped, beyond all belief, that it wasn't true.

“Did I—,” Peter cleared his throat, wishing he hadn’t, which seemed to be the running theme of today, “—did I by chance, possibly, when Tony flew me back to the Tower, which I’m assuming was in the Ironman suit, did I uh, you know, um—“

“Mr. Stark is headed up in the elevator, Mr. Parker.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupted him.

_Shit_

“On a scale of 1-10, how mad is he?” Peter asked meekly, glancing up at the ceiling.

“While my body scans show no outward signs of irritation, Sir’s heart rate is elevated and his blood pressure is higher than normal, so my estimate would be an 8.5.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered after a brief moment of hesitation and Peter couldn't decide if it was his imagination or if he just wanted someone on his team, but the A.I.’s voice sounded sympathetic and that was a bad sign when a computer felt bad for the wrath that was bound to rain upon him.

“On today’s episode of _Peter Screws the Pooch_ , we talk about underage drinking and it’s adverse effects it has on young heroes and their abilities to think properly.”

The door to his room burst open and Peter winced at the noise of wood hitting dry wall, but that paled in comparison when he saw an angry Tony Stark standing in the doorway.

“And while we usually save questions from the audience for the end of the show, today, I think we can make an exception,” Tony continued, making his way into Peter’s room, a sarcastic smirk dancing on his lips and his usually kind eyes were on a low simmer, anger lurking in the shadows.

Peter gulped.

“To answer your question, Mr. Parker, yes, you did, in fact, regurgitate your tacos and cheap beer all over my Mark fifteen, after I kindly took time out of my night, to fly over to the suburbs of Queens, to a house full of your classmates, to save _you_ , from possibly making one of the worst decisions of your teenage life.”

Peter winced at Tony’s steadily rising voice, one because it was making his headache worse and two, because, well, _Tony was yelling at him._

“So, since I didn’t really get a coherent answer last night, _what the HELL were you thinking?!_ ” Tony demanded, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

Peter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously, “I uh—“

But Tony cut him off, “Because I can tell you what you _weren’t_ thinking. You weren’t thinking about the fact that if you flew into that house, drunk off your ass, might I add, you not only could’ve injured yourself, you could’ve hurt someone else. Or, more importantly, you could’ve exposed your secret to all your little classmates, who all have their little smartphones, with HD camera’s and access to the internet and you could’ve been the next viral sensation, which would blow your cover to the ENTIRE WORLD.”

Tony’s shout made Peter jump and shrink back from the rage in his voice, but he was so lost in his rant that he didn’t even notice, “Which, not only put you in danger, but all your little friends and your unusually attractive aunt.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “Oh god, aunt May, Tony—“

He waved him off, “Oh, now you’re thinking of someone besides yourself? Don’t worry, she thinks you're sleeping over at Ned’s tonight because me, being the cool parent that I am, brought you here, instead of dropping you off at home last night and saved you from the verbal ass chewing of the century.”

Guilt swelled in Peter’s gut, eclipsing any nausea that had been lingering, and he dropped his eyes to the floor in shame.

“Seriously, Peter, what were you thinking?” Tony demanded and Peter could hear the exasperation and fatigue in his voice and his guilt increased ten fold.

If Peter was being honest with himself, he _wasn't_ thinking. Not entirely, at least. He just wanted one night, _one night_ , where he could be a normal teenager. Who went to parties and let loose and danced and didn’t have to worry about saving the city from weird thugs with Avenger’s masks and high tech weapons. Who didn’t have to worry about keeping up with homework and studying on top of late night patrols and keeping up a secret identity from his aunt who worked two jobs to supplement the lost income because her husband died in a robbery that Peter was too angry and bitter to stop. He wanted to fit in, to be cool and seen by the most beautiful girl in entire school.

He just wanted to be _normal._

It all sounded so stupid, now that he thought it out.

Well.

“I just wanted to fit in.” Peter said softly, “The kids at school, they don’t see me, you know? I know it’s stupid, but I just wanted to know what it was like. To be cool. To be—“

“—normal.” Tony finished for him, voice unusually gentle and Peter glanced up at him hesitantly, nodding.

“Yeah.”

Tony sighed, rubbing his hand down his face, taking a seat next to Peter on the bed, “Kid, I get it. Maybe not the whole hero thing at fifteen, but when I was fifteen, I was in college, with kids that were older and cooler and I just wanted to fit in. But Pete,” Tony said softly, “drinking is never the answer. For anything. Trust me kid, alcohol won’t solve any of your problems, they only create more problems. And they can lead to things that you’re not ready for.”

Tony glanced away from him, “Take it from someone who knows, it takes you down a path you’ll have a hell of a time getting off of. I know I have a hard time showing it, but kid…you mean a lot to me and I never want to get another phone call like the one I got last night, you hear me? I’m not kidding. If I ever hear about you doing something stupid that involves the suit, I’ll take it away from you and you won’t get it back.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest, but Tony shook his head, “No, I mean it. If you want to make it public that you’re Spiderman, you’ll do it when you’re older and on your own terms. It’s not going to be because you made a stupid choice when you were drunk and you exposed yourself to the entire world. This is for your safety as much as it is for mine and everyone else you care about.”

Peter sighed, “I understand. And I promise it won’t happen again. Especially if this is how I feel as a result.”

Tony chuckled, ruffling Peter’s hair, “Hangover’s are a bitch, kid, if that’s not enough to make you want to wait to drink until you’re older, I don’t know what will.”

Tony stood up, “Alright, I’m gonna go order breakfast—what are you doing?”

Peter, who thought that the lecture was over and it was safe to go back to bed, propped himself up on his elbow, “Um, going back to bed? I wasn’t kidding, I really don’t feel good and I’m tired—“

“Oh no no no,” Tony tutted in disapproval, backing his way out of Peter’s room, “You’ve got a suit with your puke all over it, waiting to be cleaned in the lab and then you have homework to do and web fluid to make—“

“But—“ Peter looked longingly at the California king with it’s soft sheets and fluffy pillows and his body physically ached at the thought of leaving it.

“Or I can always call your aunt and tell her what really happened last night—“

_“Coming!”_

Tony smirked.

_Iron Dad indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think (:

**Author's Note:**

> Continue?? Let me know what you think :)


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